Simple and Pure
by Bleve
Summary: Sometimes, you admire a person for what they are as much as for what they are not. An expansion of the Skyrim "Purity" quest and the consequences after. GAME SPOILERS. Farkas/Female Imperial Dragonborn.
1. Chapter 1

*****CONTAINS GAME SPOILERS***  
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**A/N** - So, like many other gamers, I have found myself sucked into Skyrim. It is a fantastic game, but I did not expect much out of the npc's (based on Bethesda's previous games). However, I must admit that I was pleasantly surprised by several characters, and my favorite by far, Farkas. His presence inspired this short story, so I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer - I do not own Skyrim or its characters. Bethesda does.

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><p>I sat in a quiet corner of the common area, sipping my mead while absorbing the atmosphere provided by the constant chatter of my shield-siblings. I had never seen the dining table so full of people and everything around me seemed ethereal, almost unreal. A little voice somewhere in my mind's fog reminded me that I was in shock. Kodlak's death was unbelievable; my brain would simply not accept it as fact, even though I had watched his funeral pyre burn on the Skyforge. The man was the stuff of legends—his character and name were known throughout the nine Holds. Yet, he had seen potential in me when no one else ever had. He didn't doubt me or my intentions, as many Nords had before him. He had asked me once why I stayed in Skyrim, and I had bluntly told him that while I was not a native, it was my home, and I would bleed before leaving it. He had simply nodded in agreement, and there were no more questions. His support had fueled me to survive and thrive within the ranks of the Companions.<p>

When the old man had asked me to retrieve the head of a Glenmoril witch to reverse his lycanthropy and help him reach Sovngarde, I found it the very least I could do to repay him. But, it was a cruel twist of fate that the Silver Hand's attack would coincide with the mission he had entrusted to me. I had failed the one man who had believed in me from the beginning. It was not until Eorlund and Vilkas mentioned the Tomb of Ysgramor that I felt like I had a chance to settle things — maybe not make them right but at least make them acceptable. Even though we had managed to release his spirit, his death continued to haunt me. The fact that he had made me Harbinger disturbed me even more. The other three members of the Circle had been Companions much longer than I had and surely that made them better candidates. Yet, all of them had deferred and accepted me, based solely on Kodlak's wishes.

"No jokes about my fear of spiders?"

I heard his gruff and familiar baritone through my mental haze, and turned my eyes towards the sound. They fell first on his broad chest, and quickly moved up to see an impish smirk on his face.

I returned his smile and shook my head in the negative, "It would be like shooting a Riverbetty in a barrel."

He took a seat across from me, and I could not help but notice his strong, calloused hands as they lowered him into the chair. Farkas was by far my favorite shield-sibling for many reasons, most importantly his compassion and battle prowess. Those were two characteristics you did not often see paired so equally in a man—they were either a fearsome warrior that knew no mercy, or some gentlemen that couldn't swing his way out of a potato sack.

"I am not sure that I have ever understood that phrase," he replied with an eyebrow slightly raised.

Honesty—another quality that I admired deeply in him. He was truthful even when it was to his detriment, and he had often claimed that he was "not smart" and misunderstood many things.

"It means it would be easy for me to do…in this instance, to make fun of your fear of spiders."

He waved his hand dismissively, "I get that…but why can't people just say 'It would be too easy'—five little words and they're done. Instead it's all this hidden meaning garbage…just say what you mean."

I laughed loudly, realizing that I had underestimated him. For all his claims to the contrary, he seemed to reason things pretty clearly.

"You're right, Farkas. So allow me to correct…It would be too easy."

He half-smiled, as he fidgeted with a buckle on his armor, behavior that was very un-Farkas-like, "Well, at least you're smiling now." His voice got lower, "I have a favor to ask, and I guess that now is as good a time as any."

My grin fell slightly, a bit of apprehension creeping into the recesses of my mind at his show of nerves. I had never seen him like this, and while I had not known him long, I knew it was a rarity.

He met my gaze, "Will you help me remove the curse?"

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. His awkwardness must have been born out of needing to ask for my assistance, something that "proud Nord men" did not do. As much as I appreciated most Nord culture, some of it rather infuriated me. I sighed slightly and huffed, "Of course, Farkas."

He immediately picked up on my disapproval. He may not have been book-smart, but he could read people easily. "Out with it, Bryn."

"I don't understand why you are nervous in asking for my help, and don't try to deny it. I mean, I know you Nord men like to think you're invincible, and it's probably below you to ask an Imperial, let alone a woman, for aid…"

His loud bark of laughter interrupted my words, and I realized that he was now standing in front of me. "It has nothing to do with that," he leaned down until his face was inches from mine, "I asked you to risk your life, and that is not something I take lightly."

His dominant position above me set off instinctual alarm bells, calling to the wolf in me, and I shoved him hard. He barely moved, but it gave me enough room to stand, and I surprised him by chest-bumping him further back. He smirked as I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. I believed him when he said that it was not my gender that was bothering him, but there was something he was holding back. I allowed my annoyance to lace my words, "Death is an option on every mission. You and I have both risked our lives on more than one occasion for the Companions. I fail to see how helping you would be any different."

His eyes lowered, and he whispered through gritted teeth, "Because, you maddening woman, this time it would not be for the Companions, it would be for me." Before I could respond, he brushed past me, heading down the stairs that lead to the living quarters and out of sight.

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><p>I sighed and stretched as I stared at my uneaten morning meal. I had not slept soundly; my thoughts on Kodlak and the disagreement with my shield-brother had kept me from sleeping most of the night. I still was not quite sure how our discussion had turned south so quickly. One moment, we were laughing, and the next we were practically at each other's throats. I decided to chalk it up to our inner wolves, combined with battle wariness from our exploit into Ysgramor's Tomb. Whatever the reason, I knew that I owed him an apology. I was Harbinger now, whether or not I felt worthy, and my accusatory behavior had been less than ideal.<p>

Since breakfast was not too appealing at the moment, I decided to try and find Farkas. I was never very good at apologizing, and the sooner I did so, the sooner I would free my mind from the guilt. I wandered out into the courtyard, knowing that he often practiced his swordwork in the morning.

I nearly swallowed my tongue in surprise and awe when I laid my eyes upon him. There had been a few occasions previously where I had witnessed Farkas exercising in the courtyard, and I had seen him in battle more times than I could count. But, I had never known him to spar shirtless. I stood there, dead in my tracks, trying to process what my senses were relaying to my feeble brain. The sun danced its rays across his bare back, and it highlighted each taut, rippling muscle as he swung his two-handed sword. His feet were planted firmly in an offensive stance, as they anchored him in place. He was relentless, cleaving into the sparring dummy as he grunted and growled in his exertions. I tried to tell myself that I was so very interested in watching because of the sheer beauty of his skills. I did not get long to stand there and admire him, however, before he noticed my presence and stilled. He looked over his shoulder at me, waiting.

"I owe you an apology, Farkas."

He turned his entire frame toward me, and I found it extremely difficult to talk and keep my eyes from wandering down his muscular form. He took a few steps toward me, leaning his weapon against a nearby wall while dipping his hands in a bucket to rinse his face.

He shook his head slowly, "No, you don't, Bryn. We are hot-natured, and it got the better of both of us. Let's just agree to put it behind us."

I asked, "So, would you tell me why it bothers you so much to ask me for help? I don't want to cause any more problems between us unknowingly."

He sighed, "I will tell you, but I'm not sure you'll like the answer."

I nodded at him encouragingly, and he began, "It is difficult for me to ask you to help me with something so personal. I'm not going to pretend to understand how or why it happens, but I get that we have to fight my beast spirit. That makes me uncomfortable."

I tried to keep my tone even, as I wasn't quite sure what to make of his statement. "Farkas, I fought Kodlak's beast form and came out alive. I can do it again."

He stood up then, and made his way cautiously over to me, careful after last night's debacle. "I don't doubt your abilities. But, I know what kind of thoughts my primal side has had about you, and I am certain that Kodlak had no such ideas."

My eyes widened at his words, but I didn't dare speak. He stood before me, and continued, "I have tried very hard to keep that part of myself away from you, and it has been difficult."

My mind processed his words quickly. I had only seen Farkas in wolf form one time, on my acceptance mission, after I had foolishly gotten myself stuck in a trap.

I kept the shiver I felt out of my voice, "Once. I've only seen you once."

He nodded. "I couldn't risk losing control around you; I wasn't sure what would happen. Now, the only way to rid myself of the beast is to expose you to it. I do not like that."

I was torn in response to his words. On one hand he sought to protect me, which was honorable, but I was not some helpless maiden who needed defending. On the other, he was acknowledging something that my conscious mind had long refused to, but could do so no longer. My hircine instincts kicked in, recognizing what my human side would not. I found his eyes and stared into them defiantly, "I'm not scared, Farkas. Not of you, and not of the wolf. In fact…"

I let my voice linger, as I took a step forward into his personal space, allowing my body language to do the talking, "I am very interested to find out what you are so afraid of…"

His lip curled slightly in a snarl of warning, "You do not know what you are getting yourself into."

"I think I do. Now make ready. We leave for Ysgramor's tomb."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** - I hope everyone had an enjoyable holiday, and I wish everyone a Happy New Year! Thanks to all who reviewed, I appreciate the motivation!

**Disclaimer** - I do not own Skyrim, or its characters.

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><p>The soft crunching of snow under my boot echoed clearly in my ears, reminding me of the lack of conversation between myself and my traveling companion. He had barely spoken to me since setting out from Whiterun, only doing so when it was absolutely necessary and saying the bare minimum to convey his point. I knew instantly that he had been infuriated by my dismissal of his warning; Farkas never pulled his punches and he never masked his feelings. I thought for sure I was going to hear all about it on the long march north, but instead he had hardly said anything.<p>

His relative silence had given me ample time to think over his words in the courtyard. I had gone in search of him to squash the disagreement between us, and somehow, things had ended up more unsettled. His admission regarding his unwillingness to expose me to his beast form, and the reasons behind it, had caught me off guard. Sure, I had appreciated Farkas physically many times—any woman with two eyes in her head surely would. I also did not doubt that he could find me attractive; I was no buxom Nord blonde, but I could catch the attention of any man I deemed worthy. It had surprised me more because we were comrades, and while fraternization was not disallowed within the Companions, it didn't seem accepted either. On more than one occasion, we had shared flagons of mead at the bar and commentary on who had the best ass, both male and female, in Whiterun. All those times, he never once mentioned any interest in me or showed any jealousy over the men I took to my room. We even joked about preferences in potential mates, and how many one-nighters we each could obtain. Those nights of debauchery forged bonds between us that would never crumble on or off the battlefield, and they cemented us not just as shield-siblings, but friends. To hear now that he was interested in more was confusing and simultaneously intriguing in light of his previous behavior.

I wanted to ask him more about it, but I couldn't get him to speak on the weather let alone any feelings he had towards me. I also had something else I needed to share with him, and I thought that it might help ease some of his discomfort. Before Farkas had made his request, I had aided his twin, Vilkas, in curing his lycanthropy. I had now watched three different men, whom I respected greatly, decide to separate themselves from the wolf, and after some inner contemplation, I wanted to do the same. I was not sure I believed in an afterlife, let alone Sovngarde, but clearly these men had not desired to risk it any longer, and neither did I. The animal inside of me never allowed rest, and I felt like I was constantly waiting to be attacked, always on the edge. If nothing else, I might be able to finally get a good night's sleep. In addition to that benefit, asking for his assistance in ridding myself of the wolf might alleviate some of his discomfort. Maybe he would feel that we were on more equal footing, asking one another for help, instead of it being one-sided.

My thoughts were interrupted as I noticed the statues that marked Ysgramor's Tomb looming in the distance against the backdrop of night. I unconsciously drew my weapon, preparing for any trouble that may show itself—the real battle would begin once we entered the tomb, but it never hurt to be ready for the unexpected. As we approached, I heard his voice behind me, "Maybe we should camp for the night before going in."

"Do you want to rest?"

He paused before answering, "I'm not tired."

I turned around to face his moonlit silhouette, "Neither am I. Why then do you want to stop?"

He sighed, "No idea. Foolishly hoping to delay this I guess."

"We will deal with whatever comes, Farkas. I know you are concerned, but I trust no one else in Skyrim more than you, especially in battle."

He nodded, "Let's do this then."

It was now or never. "Wait, Farkas. I have something I want to ask you."

He stilled, waiting for my words. "After we have finished curing you…will you help me do the same?"

He cocked his head to the side, a move I recognized as one of deep thought, and he responded, "If that is what you want."

"It is."

"Are you sure that you're not doing this…"

I cut him off with a wave of my hand, "I'm doing this because I have thought long and hard about it. I'll admit that everyone's decisions have caused me to consider it, but I came to the conclusion on my own."

He nodded, "Then I will."

I gestured with my hand, and he took the lead as we entered the tomb.

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><p>The battles with the wolves had been formidable, but not insurmountable. Despite Farkas' misgivings, the fight with his wolf form was mostly unremarkable. For the large part, the beast's attention was focused solely on Farkas. There was one brief moment where it turned to me, and before I could even react, the man threw himself carelessly in front of the wolf. He seemed determined to keep me out of its reach, so I let him take point, and used my bow to take shots at it from a distance. The fight with my wolf form was even less eventful.<p>

With that task completed, we had returned to Jorrvaskr, and I had hoped that things between Farkas and I would go back to normal, but that had seemed less and less likely. He had remained quiet all the way back to Whiterun, and as soon as we reached town, excused himself and went into his quarters. I had thought that maybe he just needed some time to himself to rest and adjust to being a normal human again. It sounded like a great idea to me at the time, so I had made my way to my own room and allowed myself a few moments of the first restful sleep that I had in months.

Now, I found myself awake, refreshed and resolved to find some of my shield-siblings, including Farkas, and drag them to the Mare. It was time to have a few drinks in honor of our victories. I made my way to his room first, and found it surprisingly empty. I heard Aela's voice from behind me, "Looking for someone?"

I smirked at her obvious question, "I am. Do you happen to know where he may be?"

She shook her head in the affirmative, "But, first, I wanted to tell you, from one shield-sister to another, nice catch."

I laughed just a little, "It's not like that."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Really? Would have fooled me." I rolled my eyes as she continued, "Regardless, he's down at the Mare. A bunch of them left a while ago."

I tried to hide my disappointment at being left behind, especially by him, by forcing myself to smile, "Are you heading there now?"

She nodded, "I was just leaving."

"Then let's go."

To her credit, Aela did not make any other awkward comments as we walked the short distance through Whiterun to the Mare. As we crossed through the market area, I could hear the ruckus and commotion that almost always emanated from the inn. We passed through the main entrance, and I scanned the room, taking in the atmosphere while looking for Farkas. The place was crowded, but I quickly found a group of my shield-siblings occupying a corner table in the main room. I saw Vilkas and Torvar first, and then I saw him—and the blonde barmaid perched in his lap.

I felt the blood in my veins turn cold, and I let out a hiss that had formed deep in my throat. Aela's voice reached my ears from behind me, as her eyes took in what I had seen, "Clearly, it's not like that for him either."

I didn't even bother to respond to her, as I marched my way over to the table. I was quickly losing control of demeanor, and I struggled to keep a straight face. "Sorry that I'm late to the party."

I noticed that he looked slightly uncomfortable, and that gave me a small amount of pleasure. "But, I'm here—so it's time to have some fun." I looked at the woman in his lap and tossed a sovereign in her direction, "Why don't you do your job and fetch me a mug?"

If looks could kill, the one she shot me would have hit the jugular. She stood up, rather haughtily, and leaned her bosom into Farkas' face, "I will be right back, handsome."

I bristled at her words, but bit my tongue to keep from responding. A couple of my clan mates were more than just a little intoxicated, and upon my arrival at the table, started cheering and clapping. I took one of the empty chairs from another table, and made a space between people at the table, so that I faced him. If he wanted to run and hide like a coward, he wasn't going to do so in my city—let him go find some back-alley tavern somewhere else in Skyrim. His trollop brought my mead over, tossing it carelessly in front of me, "Here's your drink."

I didn't even respond to the obnoxious little flit, I just grabbed the flagon and downed it in one shot. Before I had even finished swallowing, she was back in his lap, giggling and whispering in his ear. I noticed that he was anxious—I could read the telltale signs that I knew from fighting alongside him countless times. One of them involved running his forefinger back and forth along a callous he had on the inside of his thumb, and tonight, it looked like he was going to start a fire in his damn hand if he wasn't careful. The girl tried to keep his attention, and she was succeeding for the most part, but every once in a while he would look in my direction. When he did so, I made sure I stared him down.

People began talking to me about what happened at the tomb, asking questions, and I spent some time discussing it with my friends. Another server passed by with a pitcher, and I motioned for her to come over and refill my glass. Over the din of the room, I could make out the sound of a lute as it began to play. I recognized the tune—it was a song about Ysgramor and the original Companions, and I was sure one of my friends had requested it. Several of them got up to dance, or in some cases stumble around, as the bard weaved his tune. Aela's voice interrupted my thoughts, as she took a vacated seat next to me, "It seems like everyone is having a good time."

I nodded, "It does. They deserve it after what has happened."

She stared at me, "And what about you? Are you enjoying this?"

I lied right through my teeth, and the words sounded like bullshit in my own ears, "I am."

"I'm not much into meddling, but I'm not buying that."

I growled, "Then butt out, Aela."

"You didn't get to spend much time around Skjor, but he was a great man. I knew that better than any other Companion," her voice heavy and sad in its implication. "Don't waste the precious time you get, Bryn."

I started to respond to her, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement across the table. I couldn't hear the words that passed between them over the music, but I watched as the blonde barmaid led Farkas by the hand out of the common area, down towards the private rooms.

I looked back to her, and my voice sounded strong in my ears, but I knew it was bravado. "I'm not. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

I had seen and heard enough for one evening, and I no longer felt much like celebrating. I made my way out of the inn and into the cool night air—where I didn't have to think about him or what had gone horribly wrong between us.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** – This is it! The final chapter of my little three-shot (is there even such a thing?) about the wonderful character that is Farkas. I greatly expanded on this particular portion of the game, because I felt that Bethesda really let the "marriage" idea fall flat. I think they started out with the great plan of including it, and then realized somewhere along the way that they couldn't really handle it. They can emulate the beauty that is Aurora Borealis (which is fantastic by the way), but can't come up with something better than: 1) put on amulet, 2) ask about it, 3) let's get hitched. It just sadly reminded me of being in the second grade and sending notes that said "Do you like me, circle yes or no." So, I tried, in my meager way, to give it some depth. This portion is a little larger than the others, but I didn't want to break it up, so I hope you all enjoy. I know I have immensely enjoyed writing it.

Thank you to all who have reviewed! Nothing motivates me more than feedback!

**Disclaimer** – Bethesda owns Skyrim and its characters.

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><p>Disgusted and dejected, I made my way back towards the clan hall, and decided to sit outside in the patio area to give myself time to calm down. If I were to be honest with myself, I would recognize that I had no right to be angry about the barmaid. Sure, I had been miffed when he went to the Mare without me—we had often celebrated previous victories together—but I had not been furious until I found the bimbo in his lap. I never had such a visceral reaction to his conquests before, but I knew jealousy when I saw it, even in myself. I had often seen previous lovers with other women, and it never bothered me—there was no real connection, no allegiance owed. That is what differed with Farkas, but I still had no claim to the man.<p>

The deliberate footsteps of someone on a mission interrupted the quiet night, and I turned my head to see the subject of my thoughts approaching. "There you are," he stated matter-of-factly.

I did not quite trust my mouth to respond without somehow making things worse, so I nodded my head instead. He walked towards me, "I wanted to talk to you."

I looked at him, with his hair tucked behind his ears and his hands balled at his sides, and gave into my urges. "I'm through with talking."

I lunged at him then, plastering my body and lips against his. I felt him startle against me, and then his mouth was on mine. He crushed me backwards against the wall of the clan hall, and I hungrily wrapped a leg around his, trapping him. He broke away, "I thought we had gotten rid of the wolves."

I smirked, "I don't need to be part animal to act like one." I tried to kiss him again, and he pulled back just a little.

His husky voice responded, "That's what you want?"

I looked at him, "You know how we are, Farkas. We were both predators, long before we became werewolves. I know you and how you operate; we've shared stories about many nights, both pleasant and passionate. How many contests have we had, betting on who could bed someone first?"

He stiffened just a bit, and I could feel his biceps twitch below my fingertips, "So, that's what this is then—just a tussle between friends?"

I ran my fingernails along his collarbone, and he trembled just slightly in response, "Not just _a_ tussle…I would use spectacular or magnificent to describe it."

I reached for his face, to bring his mouth back to mine, and he pushed me back, holding me at arm's reach. "I'm not interested in that, Bryn."

"You sure seemed interested twenty seconds ago," I hissed indignantly, as I threw my hands up in disbelief, "I can't believe your nerve. You'll show that dime-a-dozen bar whore a good time, but refuse me."

He shook his head as his voice dropped, "First of all, you know better than most that I would still be in the bed if I had taken that barmaid to my room."

That news made me smile just slightly, but the rest of his statement quickly squashed any victorious thoughts I had in my head. "I won't be a notch in your belt. Normally," his voice, now a whisper, tickled my ear as he spoke, "I wouldn't mind taking one night from a beautiful woman. But, it's you, Bryn. I need more than that."

"Of all the men in Skyrim, _you_ are going to play hard to get?"

"I'm not playing. I know what I want, woman."

My eyes rolled as I scoffed at his words, "You're serious? I've watched you make your way through half of the female population of Whiterun, and only the Gods know how many other women in the remaining eight Holds. Since when did you want more than a roll in the hay?"

His voice was serious and heavy, "Since I met you. I discovered an equal, someone who made me want to be better than what I was. I found a woman I want more from." He paused and took a deep breath, continuing sadly, "Maybe I don't make you feel the same way."

Despite the sweet words, his rejection still angered me and I fought back with my tongue, "I'm having a hard time knowing how to feel, Farkas. You practically ignored me all the way to the tomb and back, and then left me behind. Those actions don't match up to what you are saying now."

He looked puzzled, "I'll admit I was angry with you on the way to the tomb, but that's because you are so damn dismissive and pig-headed. You were resting when we got back, and I didn't want to disturb you."

His perfectly reasonable, but still infuriating answers did not satisfy me. I sneered, "So, I guess that blonde at the Mare tripped while delivering drinks to your table, and you just conveniently caught her with your lap?"

"No, she was in my lap because she wanted to be," he said with a smirk.

"You act like it's normal for barmaids to use patrons as chairs."

"No, it's not. But, who am I to turn her away? She found me attractive, and made that clear by her actions. _You_ act like I slept with her right in the middle of the common room. But, you've mentioned her twice now, so tell me why it bothers you."

I was not sure how to answer his demand. Up until recently, that behavior by him had not aggravated me. I sputtered honestly, "I…I don't know."

He was back in my personal space before I knew what he was up to—damn him and his warrior reflexes. I could feel the tension in his words, as his chest rumbled against mine, "Then you need to figure that out. I know why I turned down the barmaid. When you understand what is going on in your own head, find me."

He left me standing there alone—flustered, confused, and longing for him.

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><p>Over the next few weeks, I had avoided him as much as I possibly could. After our little "conversation," I had realized that he was right in part about my indecision, and until I knew completely what I wanted, it was wisest to keep some space between us. It had been difficult, because I enjoyed his company immensely. Luckily, it became more bearable in that my new duties as Harbinger had kept me fairly busy. There was also plenty of work to be had, and even though I could have assigned the missions to junior members, I took on quite a share of them. I had used any excuse I could find to get out of Whiterun. When the contract came in that had us muscling a snitch in Riften, I took the job because I had thought that the traveling distance would give me some time to come to a resolution.<p>

The problem I was having was deciding what I wanted from him. I had initially thought that we could remain friends, maybe even move to friends with an understanding of bunking together when amenable. Seeing some floozy lounge all over him had caused me to realize the absolute idiocy of that idea—the old, comfortable companionship I had shared with Farkas was no longer possible, and I had no one else to blame but my jealous self for that. On top of that, he apparently would not be satisfied by a relationship of convenience, so my plan would not have worked for him either. The fact that he wanted more was unexpected, and completely unlike him. We were both free spirits, enjoying the freedom of no commitments and many lovers. Now, he claimed that meeting me had changed that for him.

But, if not friends, then what? I could not imagine a life without Farkas in it in some capacity—it was not even an option. It was funny how quickly that had changed for me; I used to move from town to town without a care, and now, one group, and one man in particular, shattered that belief. So that meant something more, and if I was going to be real with myself, that notion terrified me. I had never imagined myself committed to a man. Women who got married were expected by most to be subservient to their husbands, and I was one woman who would never be. I enjoyed the freedom that came with being alone—I made decisions about my gold and my life, answering to no one. Marriage held no benefit for a woman like me. I definitely didn't need to be married to enjoy the physical aspects of a man, and if a female wanted to chain herself to some oaf in exchange for shelter and protection, that was her foolish decision. I could provide those things for myself, and I had always been better off for it. Even if there was more to marriage than fulfilling basic needs, most in Skyrim did not have the luxury of obtaining it. Years of war and civil unrest had hardened most residents, and many of them married out of necessity as opposed to emotion. I could not blame them for their practical views, but it had not encouraged me to consider marriage whatsoever.

However, events in Riften had opened my eyes to new ways of thinking. I realized that before, being with one man had been unfathomable because I just had not found the unfathomable one man. I never knew anyone like Farkas, and I could never have imagined before that I ever would. He had changed everything, and flipped my little world on its ass end. With new mindset intact, and contract settled, I had returned to Whiterun hopeful that I would find him and make things right. It was late afternoon by the time I arrived, and I stepped through the door into the common room of Jorrvaskr. As expected, it was full of people enjoying their supper, and I was quickly greeted by several of my shield-siblings; but Farkas was not among them. I chatted with them for a few moments, and then excused myself, making my way downstairs to the dormitory area. I went past his empty room and noticed that the bed was still made; he clearly had not been in it recently. I heard movement down the hall, and saw Tilma sweeping the area. She probably had an idea where he was.

"Tilma, have you seen Farkas recently?"

She nodded, "He and Vilkas went out on a job a few days ago. Said he'd be back yesterday, but hasn't returned."

"Thank you." I made my way up the hallway to my room, her words echoing in my mind. It wasn't uncommon for missions to take extra time, but for some reason, my stomach soured at the thought of him being late. I tried to put it out of my head, and instead, focused on getting some badly needed rest. I washed up and changed out of my armor, and then settled on the bed, trying to relax.

Banging on the door caused me to bolt upright, and I realized in a haze that I must have dozed off. Aela's concerned voice called to me, "Bryn, you need to get out here!"

I jumped to my feet, and stumbled unsteadily out the door. She looked worried and angry at the same time, as she pulled me by the arm, without any words, the short distance to Farkas' quarters. Inside, I saw the forms of several people but I never noticed their faces, because the moment I eyed him and his condition, it was my only concern. My voice sounded shaky, "What the hell happened?"

He responded, but it did little to soothe me, "I'm fine. It's just a scratch. I told them not to wake you."

I was beside his bed before I was even aware that I was moving. I tried to keep calm, but the blood-stained bandages were not helping. "It looks worse than a scratch to me."

Vilkas piped in, "A Hagraven got to him."

I bent at the waist to take a closer look at the wound on his arm, and I heard the breath catch in his throat. I thought at first that I had disturbed his injury, but I realized that his eyes weren't on his forearm. Instead, they were locked on my collarbone and the amulet that had been, until a few seconds ago, hidden under my clothes. I had tucked it away when I had received several uncomfortable offers from other people, but now, it dangled from my neck, bold and obvious to everyone in the room. I brought my eyes up to his, and he did not look away from my gaze as he demanded, "I want everyone out of here, now."

Vilkas began to protest, "You need treatment, brother. Tilma has the ointments and potions here, and your wound needs tending."

He nodded in response, "Thank you, Tilma, but please leave them. I am sure…" he paused and winked at me, "that Bryn will take good care of me."

Blurs went past my periphery, and I heard Vilkas mutter, "You'd better fix him up," and he paused, adding emphasis, "_before_ doing anything else." Then the door closed, and the noise jarred me into action. I was no healer, but anyone who spent time in battle knew a thing or two about dressing a wound. I collected the necessary implements that Tilma had left behind, and carried them over to the nightstand. I sat on the edge of the bed, and gently lifted his arm, resting his hand on my right thigh, so that his forearm was across my lap. Steam rose from the water that I poured out of the pitcher, and I soaked the rag in it before placing it on his arm. He jumped slightly at the contact, and I took the opportunity to give him some grief, hoping to lighten the mood, "That will teach you to take on a Hagraven without me."

I didn't look at him, but I could hear the mirth in his voice, "Point taken. You are a much better partner than Vilkas, and you look better in your armor, too."

I smiled as I slathered ointment onto the cut on his arm, and gingerly wrapped it in clean bandages. It would have to be watched for several days for signs of infection, but it appeared that most of the bleeding had ceased.

"I think I did an acceptable job of patching you up. Now, I need you to drink this." I offered the vial to him, but he didn't budge.

"If you think I'm taking a sleeping draught before speaking to you about that amulet, you are out of your mind."

I groaned at him in annoyance, "You need your rest, Farkas. You won't live to talk to anyone about anything if you don't take it easy."

He surprised me by trying to sit up, and I quickly leaned in, without hesitation, to gently push him back. "Lay down, Farkas."

Again, he made an attempt to get out of the bed, and this time, when I tried to restrain him, he used his good arm to grab me and pull me down against his bare chest. "Bryn, I've been patient for weeks. That Hagraven would have had to cut off my head to keep me from asking you. I recognize what that Amulet of Mara means, and everything else in all of Skyrim, including my arm, will just have to wait. Are you looking to marry?"

The stubborn mule wasn't going to sit still unless I answered him. "I am."

"Please tell me you're wearing that for me."

I smirked, "Nah…I've got my new jewelry on so that I can get Athis to ask about it…let me tell you that was an awkward moment."

He laughed then, a deep throaty rumble, and I realized how much I had missed that beautiful sound these last few weeks. My fingers traced the stubble on his cheek, and he stopped chuckling to nuzzle my hand. "It's for you, Farkas. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out…"

He put a finger over my lips with his good hand, silencing me. "You don't have to apologize. Just be my wife, Bryn. It's the only thing I will ever need from you."

I smiled at him, "What you need is rest, and that's coming from your future wife."

"I'll rest…" his smile widened mischievously, "…later—I've got other plans right now."

A chill went down my spine at the look of hunger in his eyes. I took a deep, shaky breath, as desire surged through me, "We'll have to take it easy on your arm."

"I think we can manage that. I won't move this arm an inch. In fact, I'll let you do all the work until it's better."

I grinned at him, "Now, that's the kind of job a girl could get used to."

I could barely make out his words as he nipped at my neck, "I wouldn't, because once it's healed, it's my turn."

I moaned at the thought of his promise, as his hand began pulling at the drawstrings on my bodice. I was quickly losing any ability to think clearly, and I wanted his word before I let myself fall into bliss, "Promise me you'll sleep afterward."

"If you stay—like a rock."

I laughed and leaned over to blow the candle out on the nightstand, sending the room into darkness.


End file.
